Destiny's Pawn
by Pegasus
Summary: Remy LeBeau, Eastern Europe, strange people...things happen...read it and find out.
1. The Pure Breed

**DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story mostly belong to Marvel. No infringement intended, blah,blah,blah. Please, please, please do not reproduce this story in part or in whole anywhere without at least asking me first! Thank you...**

email me at [Sarah.Watkins@onyx.net][1]

**Destiny's Pawn**

**Part 1/7**

He had never quite trusted aeroplanes, but it was the only real way to get where he was going. The flight from JFK to Bratislava was a long one, and Remy LeBeau got jittery on short haul – so this was not exactly a pleasant trip. The almost devoted attention he was receiving from the pretty flight attendant helped focus him a little, however, and now, in the last fifteen minutes of the flight, he was finally able to relax. 

Why exactly had he decided to go to Slovakia? **_Because you ain't never been dere before, Remy_**, he told himself. **_An' you needed t'get away fromt'ings_**. 

Things. 

The X-Men in general, Rogue in particular. Oh yes, Gambit had a lot of thinking to do. He'd actually been surprised when his announcement had been met with little resistance. It really wouldn't have surprised him if half the X-Men had done his packing for him. 

Anddespite him asking her toRogue hadn't even come to see him off at the airport. 

No time to dwell on her reasons. The girl had clearly made a statement and it was now up to Remy to accept it – whatever the reasoning. 

**_Jus' cause Gambit acceptin' dis, don't mean he likes it, chere_**, he thought as the plane, now landed, taxied into the airport. The pretty flight attendant was making some sort of announcement, but he only half-heard what she was saying. He needed to pick a destination. Somewhere out of the way, somewhere he could blend in and disappear. Glancing down at the map in his hand, he looked again at the place he had chosen.

Perfect. 

* * * 

**INTERLUDE 1   
Banská Bystrica - Slovakia**

They watched. And waited. 

But most of all they waited.

One day, the prophecy would be fulfilled. And, if what their tomes told them – that time was drawing near. 

They kept their peace and waited. 

**END INTERLUDE**

* * * 

**Donovaly, Lower Tatra Mountains – Slovakia**. 

The bite in the air was almost familiar to Gambit. Reminded him sharply of Antarcticano. He had come here to reflect, not wallow in self-pity and misery. It was the beginning of November in Slovakia and there was no snow evident. But the air carried with it the unmistakable tang of ice and the promise of snowfall to come. 

Pulling his coat around himself, he stopped the hire car outside one of the many ski lodges that made up the small village in the mountains. May as well try here as anywhere – the place seemed fairly deserted anyway. He'd driven here from Bratislava in relative peace – apart from the somewhat mad Slovak drivers, his trip had been uneventful. 

Pushing open the door of the tiny lodge, he couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face. Spartan, simple and unpretentious accommodation, the building somewhat dilapidated and run down

Precisely what he wanted. 

A brief exchange took place between him and the moustachioed man at the front desk. Remy spoke no Slovakian, the man spoke no English or French, but by simple means of waving cash around – and as Remy had had no time to exchange his US dollars, that meant a foreign currency – he managed to intimate to the man what he wanted. 

His dollars were readily accepted and disappeared into a plastic bag beneath the counter. He was given a key and the man beamed a welcoming smile at him, directing him up the stairs and along the corridor. 

The room was as he had expected – bare save for two tiny beds and a wardrobe that had clearly seen better days. A small bathroom with a shower that had potentially come out of a museum was through a door and the window opened out onto the world's smallest balcony with just enough room for one person to stand. 

Remy stood there now, inhaling the unpolluted mountain air that was heavy with the chill of the early evening. He glanced down at the glass in his hand. _Borovicka_, the man behind the bar had said. Tasted more like antifreeze than the juniper brandy it was supposed to be, but that said, it was achieving the desired effect of getting him pleasantly drunk. 

Biting on his lip, he withdrew contemplatively into the warmth of his sheepskin collar and sipped on the fiery liquor. The evening was rapidly giving way to night and the dark sky was dusted with a light smattering of stars. It was all so far removed from the bustling chaos of Westchester. Closing his eyes, he drank in the silence, relishing it and making the most of it. 

* * * 

**INTERLUDE 2   
Banská Bystrica – Slovakia**

In their secret meeting place, they draw together to rejoice. The time of waiting is drawing to an end. The time of the Prophecy draws near. The Chosen One awaits. The threads are finally drawing together in a complicated weave that cannot be altered. 

Time has carried them forward to this point and their time is now. 

Silently they go forth into the Slovakian night to seek him out. 

**END INTERLUDE**

* * * 

**INTERLUDE 3  
Westchester, New York**

Ah'm sorry, sugah, but I genuinely don't know where he went, said Rogue into the telephone mouthpiece. He said he wanted t'be on his own for a while – an' you know Remy every li'l bit as well as ah do. A while' could mean anythin' from a week to a year. 

She listened in silence to the voice on the other end of the phone. Sure, sure, if he calls, ah'll let him know. 

Replacing the phone in its cradle, Rogue stared wordlessly at it. She really didn't know where Remy was and what was worse, she wasn't entirely sure if she cared. Over the past few months, their relationship had begun to disintegrate in the most unpleasant possible way. When he had asked her to the airport to see him offto wherever it was he had his mad plans to go – she had almost gone. But at the last moment, she decided that it was a bad idea. 

Now he'd gone – God only knew where – and she was regretting her hasty decision. He'd only been gone two days and it wasn't until he had left that she had realised just how much she missed him. 

Damn you, Remy LeBeau, she said to herself, fiercely. How come ya do this to me? Woulda thought I'd be over you by nowbut no. 

She scribbled a note on the pad by the telephone. If Remy calls, tell him Tante Mattie was after him. 

Tante Mattie. Rogue had met her once. The somewhat intimidating elderly spiritual advisor to both the Thieves and Assassin's Guilds had left Rogue somewhat in awe. She was so wise and sensible. And she had never phoned the Academy before. Again, regretting her tendency to act on impulse, Rogue wished she had asked the woman why she wanted Remy. She had sounded pretty concerned for him. Maybe he was in trouble

Oh, great. Now ah got guilt as well, she murmured. 

* * * 

Coming to Slovakia definitely had its advantages, thought Remy contentedly, pushing the plate away from him. He'd successfully managed to buy himself a three course meal for less than $15 – and very good it had been too, agreed his stomach. In customary fashion, he sat back in his seat and simply observed the goings-on around him.

The lodge in which he was staying was clearly the centre of activity on a Friday night, as there seemed to be a disco taking place in the big room at the back of the hotel. Normally one for joining in such entertainment, Remy was happier this time simply to sit out and watch others enjoy themselves. A young couple seated at the table behind him were kissing and cuddling, and, feeling the pangs of regret running through him, Remy decided to remove himself outside into the night air. 

As the sharpness of the snow-laden air hit him, he was acutely aware of the numbing effect the Borovicka had had on his system and immediately reprimanded himself. He removed his sunglasses and rubbed at his tired eyes. One of the first lessons any thief – or any X-Man was taught and he'd ignored it. Never let down your guard. You never know what's hiding around the next corner. 

**_Out here_**, Remy thought, grimly, **_dat's likely t'be some sorta goat or sheep or somet'in'_**. 

As the first flakes of snow began to fall, he shuddered involuntarily, memories of Antarctica springing into his mind. How easy it was to pretend he had got over the whole thing, that he had forgiven Rogue for abandoning him there...but she didn't know he still woke, sweating in the night from the memories of that ordeal. Remy could convincingly play the role of the casual, 'water off a ducks back', good-time guy - but in his deepest heart, he was struggling to be reaccepted amongst his peers. 

**_Don't know why I bother_**, he mused, bitterly. **_Dey ain't never gon' forgive me. Not fully, anyway_**.

Lost in self-absorbed thought, he wasn't aware of the dark shape that was observing his every move. 

He leaned up against the outside wall of the lodge and lit a cigarette. The end glowed in the darkness and he inhaled it deeply, experiencing the odd sensation of drawing in a breath that was both cigarette-warm and icy cold at the same time. 

Ah, chere...what is Gambit gon' do bout you an' me? he said, aloud, musing on his relationship with Rogue. I jus' don't understand you at all any more. Not dat I ever did, o' course... 

A movement across the mountainous landscape in front of Remy's eyes was enough for him to immediately got himself into defensive mode. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and slid his hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a playing card. Who dere? he called into the night, softly. 

There was no response, so he took a few tentative steps forward, whole heartedly wishing he was wearing his armour rather than flimsy civvy clothing. You gettin' jumpy, Cajun, he said to himself as he scanned the immediate vicinity. He could see nothing, neither could he hear anything. You startin' t'imagine t'ings now. He tucked the card away again and picked up the cigarette. It was, to his relief, still burning. 

Taking another draw, he slid his glasses back over his eyes and stared moodily out at the night. The snowfall was becoming heavier now, and it made his very marrow chill. He ground out the cigarette and, pulling his collar up around his ears, turned to walk back into the lodge. 

A flurry of sound caused him to turn his head back. Something was heading straight towards him. 

He ducked, and whatever it was shot over his head and carried on. He spun around, charged card in hand, and stared after it. It was small, but travelling at a fair speed. Squinting into the night, he made out its shape. 

A bat? Dieu, Remy...you really need t'relax. He tossed the card over his left shoulder and it detonated with a quiet **WA~CHOOM!**

That's not polite, Mr LeBeau, came a voice, thickly accented. Remy froze in his steps and turned round again. 

Standing before him were three lanky figures, each dressed in black that blended in with the night. The pureness of the snow as it settled on their black-clad shoulders only served to make them look more menacing. 

Charming to the last, Remy slipped off his glasses. Th' pleasure is undoubtedly gon' be all mine...just as soon as you tell me exactly who y'are an' what y'want? 

That is not for us to reveal. Please, Mr LeBeau. We would ask you to come with us. The speaker spoke excellent English, but hesitantly, as if unused to either using the language, or speaking at all. 

What, you t'ink I come down on th' last flake o' snow? He was incredulous. I ain't goin' nowhere. Can't a man take a holiday in peace wit'out some – no offence – weird lookin' strangers comin' up t'him an' insistin' on his attention? Well, excuse me if I don't seem t'be too keen t'follow you into th' Lord only knows where, OK? All the time he was talking, he was trying his hardest to make out facial features, but all three shapes were hooded. 

You know who we are, Mr LeBeau. For we are extensions of yourself. The apparent spokesperson of the three stepped forward into the dim glow of the lights coming from inside the lodge. Remy drew a sharp breath. 

Red on black eyes looked back at him. 

You WILL come with us, Mr LeBeau. We have been waiting an eternity for you and you are not going to let us down now. 

Well, I'm sorry t'disappoint you guys – I mean, I'd love t'stay an' chat an' everyt'in' Remy's hand had slipped into his pocket and closed around several cards. like I said, I'm here on vacation. Maybe you c'n leave a number or somet'in' an' I'll see you in th' mornin' 

The three figures moved closer together and began to move forward as a unit. now you t'ree jus' stay where y'are, said Remy, backing up a little. There was something inherently unnerving about the uniformity of them: the way they moved together, the way they seemed to communicate without words 

Remy pulled out the cards and flipped them, without a word, towards his would-be attackers. 

**WA~CHOOM!   
WA~CHOOM!!**

Dere's plenty more where dat came from, he began, then stopped as the smoke from his charge cleared. 

They had gone. 

There was a fluttering of black wings in the night and three more bats shot past his head, heading for the isolation of the mountains. He turned and stared after them. 

They will be back, came a voice from the entrance to the lodge. Whirling, bewildered by yet another strange voice, Remy turned to see the owner of the hotel standing in the doorway, armed with what appeared to be little more than a lamp. Come inside. I will explain.

Totally speechless – a novelty for the Cajun – Remy nodded and followed the man inside. 

**(c) S Watkins, 2000**

   [1]: mailto:sarah.watkins@onyx.net



	2. Sitting Duck

**Destiny's Pawn**

**Part 2/7**

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story mostly belong to Marvel. No infringement intended, blah,blah,blah. Please, please, please do not reproduce this story in part or in whole anywhere without at least asking me first! Thank you... email me at [Sarah.Watkins@onyx.net][1]

Thank you. Now back to our regular programme.

* * *

They are known collectively as the Pure Breed.

It has been years since they have allowed those of their kind to go out amongst the Tainted, as they refer to the rest of humankind. They have been waiting, biding their time.

Their time is now.

And they are amongst us.

* * *

Remy LeBeau, the mutant known to his friends and, indeed, his enemies (of which there are a considerable number) as Gambit, is currently finding out rather more about the Pure Breed than he had wanted to know – which is to say, he hadn't wanted to know anything about them. He came away to the mountains of Slovakia for a vacation and ended up being attacked by three rather strange men, all of whom shared his own peculiarity of glowing red-on-black eyes. This has, rather understandably, left him fairly irritated and annoyed.

* * *

Are you tryin' t' tell me dat dey were... Remy bit back the word. He'd learned to accept many strange things in his life, and had, indeed, had his own run-ins with vampires.

said the man sat opposite him. The owner of the ski lodge where Remy was staying. He had done a pretty convincing job of pretending to speak no English when the thief had been checking in - but he spoke fluent English now. Convenient? Remy intended to find out the truth.

Here." The man pushed a bottle of borovicka and a spirit glass across the table to him. Drink this. It will help you to relax a little.

An' if I don' want t'relax? Despite himself, Remy was unnerved by this turn of events. What if I'd prefer you t'tell me zac'ly who dese Pure Breed' are? An' why dey might be int'rested in me?

The innkeeper looked at Remy somewhat suspiciously. The American had his eyes covered with shades, but he hadn't replaced them before the Slovakian had got a good look at the mutant's eyes. I suggest you look in a mirror. Your eyes and their eyes...the same. He shrugged and downed his drink, pouring himself another. I believe you are not one of them because the light did not bother you."

If dey were vampires...den dat light...

Ultraviolet, yes. The innkeeper held up the torch he had used to alert the three men to his presence. Does little damage, but makes them, how you say...discomfort?

Uncomfortable. Oui, I see. So you jus' happened t'have one of dese lights lyin' around. Remy poured himself a glass of borovicka, took a sip and grimaced a little. 

You want t'try tellin' me everyt'in' you know?

* * *

**INTERLUDE 1  
**Banská Bystrica - Slovakia

"You failed me.

The three men bow their heads before their leader, who moves with a sinuous grace, floating, almost, towards the heavily curtained window. He stares out at the snow-dusted darkness and shakes his head. The man known to his own family as Le Diable Blanc. The White Devil. Is here. In my grasp again.

There is a pause of great length, filled with unspoken words of apology, of retribution, of promises to do better next time if only given the chance.

There are no second chances. This is a lesson that the Pure Breed learn early. If they don't learn it, they discover it too late.

For these three men, it is too late.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

**INTERLUDE 2  
**New Orleans, Louisiana

_I am getting old._

The knowledge is nothing new to Tante Mattie, but it never fails to rise her to anger at her own mortality. She will not be around forever to advise the Guilds, and now is not a good time for the truth behind Remy LeBeau to surface. She is furious with herself, with Jean-Luc, and particularly with _him_.

The Antiquary.

He has dragged her into this personal crusade of his against her wishes, and she is anything but happy about it. She is too old to fight Remy's battles now – and besides – he would never forgive her if he found out.

_I am getting old._

END INTERLUDE

* * *

Remy had gone up to the tiny room that he had paid for and lay on the narrow bed, staring into space. According to his host, these so-called Pure Breed were a faction of vampires who apparently considered themselves too good to mingle even with those of their own kind. He hated vampires. The undead were always difficult. Remy preferred the completely dead. They didn't fight back.

But the whole deal about the eyes...there had to be something there. As a child, as a young man, and now as an adult, Remy stared at those eyes in his reflection every day and wondered why they were the way they were. Nobody he'd ever met had eyes like his. Sure, Kurt's were yellow, and Stormy took on a glassy expression from time to time – but red on black? The handsome Cajun had never let those eyes detract from his natural allure and charm, but that didn't stop him being self-conscious about them.

He got to his feet and wandered to the mirror, staring at the man he thought he knew. There it was. Same old reflection. Same old finely chiseled, delicate features, strong jaw, unruly mop of auburn tinted hair and yes...red on black eyes. A memory of those three pairs of eyes, unblinking in the darkness, fixed on him with something akin to hunger played across his short-term memory and he shuddered. Was he somehow related to this Pure Breed?

Coincidence. If he was a vampire, why hadn't he crumbled to dust before now? He recalled his one and only meeting with Blade to mind. Day Walkers' he had called them. Vampires who could exist in sunlight.

No. He wasn't a vampire. He didn't have the right...temperament. Besides, he'd always liked his steaks well done.

A slight tap at the window caused him to sit bolt upright, hands in his pockets instantly. Yet when he crossed the room to check out the sound, there was nothing there.

Out of nowhere, he suddenly decided that sleep would be an extremely good idea. Shaking himself, he wondered where that thought had come from. But the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. With a large yawn, the Cajun climbed into bed, still fully clothed and closed his eyes.The vampires could wait another day.

On the tiny one-man balcony, a single figure stood, trying to peer in through the crack in the curtains. Down below, a second figure hissed up. Did it work? Is he sleeping?

Ja, he's fast asleep. Both voices had very definite female timbres, silky, sultry and heavily accented. The moon came out from behind the cloud that had temporarily muffled it and glinted off silvery-gold hair. When have we ever failed to get him to do what we want? The first figure jumped from the balcony and drifted gently to the ground to stand next to her twin sister. We have been suggesting things to him for months, now. Telling him to sleep was as easy as getting him to come here in the first place, Katarina.

Seems a waste to me, muttered Katarina. He's such a handsome man. Just remind me again, Elenora. Why is it that we work for the Pure Breed and not with people like Remy LeBeau?

Because, sister, if we worked with men like Remy LeBeau, we would never get anything done. We will come back to see him tomorrow. 

The young women giggled together and left, disappearing into the night.

And Remy LeBeau dreamed of blonde-haired Germanic beauties.

* * *

**INTERLUDE 3  
**New Orleans, Louisiana

It is m'belief dat Remy be at great risk, Jean Luc.Th' Antiquary has moved th' game pieces out of m'control now. said Tante Mattie, watching the boy's father carefully.Jean Luc LeBeau twisted the hem of his shirt uncomfortably. 

Dis all _my _fault, he said, miserably.I reneged on my side of th' deal, an' now th' Antiquary seeks recompense.

We may yet be able t'bargain, she said.Remember dat we have somet'in' dat th' Antiquary wants but does not have.

Jean Luc stared at her.And dat is...? he prompted into the silent void between them.

We have Remy's loyalty and trust.It would take more'n I could tell you t'change dat boy over t'...THEIR side.

I hope you're right, Mattie, said Remy's father, staring into the garden.Do we have any idea where th' boy is right now?

His friends say he took himself a li'l vacation, she replied, moving to stand beside him.I don' know zac'ly where a boy like Remy would go t'be alone, but I'm pretty sure we ain't gon' track him down in Disneyland.

Get as many of our people on it as you c'n, he said, firmly.We hafta find Remy...before the Pure Breed do.

END INTERLUDE

* * *

His sleep was rudely disturbed by a rather insolent beam of winter sunlight that forced its way through the crack in the curtains and onto the back of his retina.He mumbled something incomprehensible and turned over to face the wall, effectively blocking out the sun.

M'sieur LeBeau? The knock at the door spelled the end to any hopes that Remy may have had of getting additional rest.He rolled back over again, noting with some mild irritation that he was still fully dressed and mumbled a reply. The voice from the other side of the door went on.There are two young ladies at the front desk who say they're friends of yours?The question in the tone of voice was unmistakable and Remy sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Now who would have tracked him down to Slovakia?A ridiculous hope welled up in him that it might be Rogue and...well, someone else. She'd seen sense at last, he thought as he acknowledged the call and swung his legs out of the bed.

Some five minutes later, he was walking downstairs with an unprecedented spring in his step, to be greeted by two statuesque blondes, one wearing dark glasses, the other with her long, lustrous curls piled up on the top of her head.Despite the surface differences, Remy could instantly spot the near identical nature of their relationship and he raised one eyebrow speculatively.

Remy LeBeau, said the girl with the dark glasses in a voice that made Remy's knees quiver unintentionally.My sister and I have been trying to get the opportunity to speak with you for many months now.Heavy accent – German, maybe Austrian, Remy thought.But man...WHAT a voice.My name, she went on, a slightly amused edge to her tone, is Katarina Bruckner.And this is my sister, Elenora.

Mam'selle's, je suis enchanté, said Remy, in his normal charming manner, kissing the hands of first one then the other. I am truly honoured by your presence, but I gotta confess t'bein' somewhat...baffled.

Katarina lowered her glasses and looked at him intently.You think that taking us to a quiet place to talk would be a good idea?That is a very good suggestion.

Now dat is most impressive, he said, smiling at her.I was jus' t'inkin' dat very same t'ing.

What a coincidence, trilled Elenora, clearly the brighter and sunnier of the two.Remy led the girls into the dining room, now deserted apart from one other patron who sat in the far corner, apparently intent on his newspaper. 

Sitting down, Remy looked from one to the other.An' dis is about...what?

We are here to...reclaim something from you, Monsieur LeBeau, said Elenora.

Remy laughed humourlessly.Petite, you got th' wrong man.Remy got NO idea what you talkin' 

Of course you do, Remy, she said, beaming a smile of such radiance at him, that he was fairly certain his skin must have tanned.We're talking about something that's very dear to you, that you most certainly won't just give up without one of those fights' that you're justly famous for.

Something in the girl's tone made Remy's flesh creep.I t'ink maybe you should tell me jus' who you two are, he said.An' I should prob'ly let you know dat I'm a mutant.He lowered his own dark glasses and treated them to a baleful red-eyed stare.Which had absolutely no effect.In fact, Elenora leaned forward and looked intently into his eyes.

Such very pretty eyes, she murmured.Ah, Katarina, will it be necessary to put those eyes out of his head?Would be **such** a shame.

Elenora, be still, said the other girl.Monsieur LeBeau, your mutation comes as no surprise to us.Elenora and I are twins.And we are also mutants.Our masters call us Yin and Yang.There.We are strangers no longer. 

I don' understand what it is you want from me.

Oh, come now, Mr LeBeau, Elenora and I have been following your progress for many weeks now, and we know that you are no fool.

Followin' me f'r...no, dat ain't right.Comin' here was a spontaneous decision.

You really believe that? said Elenora sweetly.It was me who put that idea into your head.

Remy's goosebumps got goosebumps.

she went on, gaily.Katarina and I are telepaths, of a sort.We have the power of suggestion.

Suggestion.Either she, or I suggest you do something and...you usually do. If we were to combine that power, Monsieur LeBeau... Elenora's sweet smile became menacing.You would almost certainly be powerless to resist.If we decided we wanted, for example, you to jump from a cliff...you would.And you would know, Monsieur, as you plummeted to your demise, that you hadn't really wanted to do that at all.How sad.She pouted and shook her head sadly. 

Remy swallowed.This was not going well.He did not wish to cause a scene. There was the possibility that the two women were bluffing – but he was not so stupid as to find out the hard way.

So tell me, he said, conversationally, Jus' what dis precious' t'ing dat I have dat you want so badly is?

Oh, Remy! said Katarina, pouting as prettily as her sister.And you didn't guess it!

She leaned forward, and her voice became guttural and filled with the promise of a thousand poison-tipped daggers.

We want your soul.

[END of PART 2!]

_In part 3 of Destiny's Pawn', we find out more about the history that links Remy LeBeau to the Antiquary.Yin and Yang begin to demonstrate the truly awesome nature of their mutual powers, and naturally, the Pure Breed will put in an appearance._

**(c) S Watkins, 2000**

   [1]: mailto:sarah.watkins@onyx.net



	3. The Hunted

**Destiny's Pawn**

**Part 3/7**

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story mostly belong to Marvel. No infringement intended, blah,blah,blah. (TaPlease, please, please do not reproduce this story in part or in whole anywhere without at least asking me first! Thank you... email me at [Sarah.Watkins@onyx.net][1]

Thank you. Now back to our regular programme.

* * *

Slovakia. 

A country that has undergone much change in its long and often violent history. 

A little like the mutant who goes by the code-name Gambit. 

If someone had told him a mere three weeks ago that he would be in the company of two exquisite German blondes, both of whom would be eyeing him hungrily, he would have shrugged and said it was par for the course, and you have to take the dangers of the job, why not take the rewards? 

Now he is in this situation, and things are not, as always, quite as they seem. Katarina and Elenora Bruckner are identical twins. They look alike, they work together, and they are quite deadly. 

They are the hunters, and Gambit is their prey. 

Watch. 

And learn. 

"Now it may be dat m'hearin' is playin' up," said Remy carefully as he looked from one pair of blue eyes to the other. "But did y'say dat you wanted m'_soul_?"

"Ja. Correct. Brains as well as brawn. A most impressive specimen. Elenora licked her lips in a manner reminiscent of a crocodile about to chow down. It was unnerving.

"Well, Remy'd like t'help you dere, chere, but y'see, he kind o' attached t'his soul, non?" His red eyes narrowed. "Now tell me 'zac'ly what dis is 'bout. You two got somet'in' t'do wit' dis 'Pure Breed'?"

The girls exchanged glances - worried ones? Remy couldn't quite tell.

"Who we work for is of no consequence," said Katarina briskly. "The end result will be the same. We deliver you to those who employ us, they pay us, everyone is happy."

"An' me? Where do I fit into dis equation?"

"You will be the happiest of them all. You will have freedom from this world. Yours is a destiny truly to be envied, M'sieur LeBeau. You will live forever."

"OK...I'm officially psyched out now," said Remy, standing up. "Mind if I ask you ladies t'leave?"

"Leave?" said Elenora, reaching across the table and lowering her glasses. Her cool blue eyes glinted dangerously at him. "Why, M'sieur LeBeau! How very rude! We only just arrived! We offer you the chance for greatness and you laugh at us? You are a fool."

"Enough, Elenora." Katarina was clearer the more authoritarian of the two. "He will see sense soon enough. Let us leave. We are clearly not wanted here." She got to her feet and her sister followed suit. "Until we meet again, Remy - and we _will_ meet again."

Rising to his own feet, Remy took her hand and kissed it gently. "Not if I see you first," he murmured. The two girls exchanged glances and shared a laugh. Then they walked out of the hotel leaving a very confused and bewildered Remy.

* * *

**Interlude****  
New Orleans, Louisiana**

"Remy?" Tante Mattie says, carefully. "Remy boy, is dat you?" 

"Oui, Tante. An' I t'ink you an' I is gon' hafta have a long, indepth conversation dat's been long overdue." His voice is taught with friction. 

_He can't possibly know._ She swallows, nervously, but keeps her tone airy. "Oui, petit. What you want t'talk t'Mattie 'bout?"

_ She knows I know_. He is angry. Very, very angry. "What c'n y'tell me 'bout the 'Pure Breed'?" 

She almost drops the phone. 

_He knows. _

**End Interlude**

*** * ***

Remy leaned against the wall, drawing very deep breaths. What Tante Mattie had just revealed to him had left him feeling sick to the very core. He had begged with her, pleaded for what she was saying to be not true, but as always, she could not lie to him. Not to Remy.

"Non," he had whispered hoarsely as the truths had come out. "Non...Poppa tol' me dat th' Antiquary was paid off years ago. An' jus' what 'zac'ly does he hafta do wit' a sect of vampires dat t'ink dey're better'n' anyone else?"

"He owns them, too," she had replied, simply. "An' he has them lookin' f'r you, Remy. Your father...dat is, Jean-Luc...stopped his money, b'lievin' dat th' debt had been paid. An' th' Antiquary struck back immediately."

"Non! I ain't some commodity t'be bought an' sold! I won't b'lieve dis, Tante!"

"B'lieve it or not, Remy, it's th' truth." Her beloved voice was filled with gentle regret and Remy had felt the pain stab him through the heart with more deadly accuracy than any weapon he had ever dodged. 

He had slammed down the receiver, refusing to listen to any more of the unlikely tale she had shared with him. It was...too much to accept. He was NOT the property of the Antiquary. It couldn't be true. He had seen the papers that had allowed Jean-Luc LeBeau to legally adopt the-then street rat known only as Le Diable Blanc. The name had come later.

He wasn't who he thought he was.

If he wasn't Jean-Luc's son, then who was he?

At the other end of the phone line, Tante Mattie put the receiver gently back on the cradle and looked solemnly at it for long moments. Finally, she walked down the hall to Jean-Luc's office.

Pushing open the door, she looked at the tired and ravaged face of the guilt-ridden man on the other side of the desk. "Dat was Remy," she said, matter-of-factly.

Their eyes met, and the glimmer of hope in Jean-Luc's face disappeared immediately on seeing her somber expression.

"He knows."

Cradling his head in his hands, Jean-Luc LeBeau, Master Thief and Patriarch of the Thieves Guild wept like a child. 

"Then I've lost him." 

* * *

Dazed and confused, hurt beyond reason, Remy stumbled out of the hotel, tears of rage and anger running down his own cheeks. They lied t'me, was all he could think. 

He walked for some time, not knowing where he was going. It was already growing dark by the time he slowed his pace, and he cursed himself softly for straying so far into the snowy wilderness.

He'd known, of course, that he was not Jean-Luc's son. Had known that he had originally been taken from the hospital by the man known as the Antiquary, and that the infant Remy had subsequently been stolen by the Thieves Guild. 

He knew, and had accepted all of that without ever questioning why.

"Yours is not to question, Mr LeBeau. You will learn very soon that yours is simply to obey."

The voice seemed to simply enter his consciousness, and he came to a halt, a card instantly in his hand.

"Put away your toys, Mr LeBeau." Amusement. 

"Who th' hell are you?" ~Never mind DAT~, he added, mentally. ~WHERE th' hell are you??~ He turned in circles, but could see nothing but the dusk-silhouetted shadows of the evergreens that waved softly in the light winter breeze.

"You know that."

_They are the hunters._

"Sure I do. Dat's why I asked." A string of Cajun expletives burst forth from his mouth and he threw his charged card anyway. It detonated softly in the snow, sending up a shower of white that floated gently back down to the ground. He paused, then realised that the voice in his head DID in fact, seem familiar to him. Persuasive, cajoling and inherently evil, yet beautifully soft and sweet.. Like poison-covered candy.

_He is the prey._

"And the rest of the cards, please," the voice in his mind was playing with him now, he felt as he absently withdrew the remainder of the pack and dropped it into the snow.

_The hunters make their first move. The prey is in their grasp. This is not a moment they can afford to waste._

"How do you feel, Mr LeBeau?" The voice dripped honey and arsenic. Remy smiled, beatifically. 

_Lull the prey into a false sense of security._

"I feel...jus' fine, merci beaucoup. Jus' fine."

_Every nerve ending is tingling, sending his brain into full panic mode. RUN, it seems to scream at him. But his body will not respond. He is the deer, caught in the full glare of the headlights. And the oncoming vehicle is a juggernaut._

Remy sank to his knees, in the snow. For no readily apparent reason, he felt that sleep would be a good idea.

_Closing._

And a second voice joins the first. They are such beautiful, hypnotic voices, that Remy can do nothing but gladly, willingly obey. "Sleep well, M'sieur LeBeau."

He closes his eyes and falls face-first into the packed snow.

_They are the hunters. They hold the power that will stop the prey in its tracks or kill it._

The hunters smile triumphantly at one another as the sound of fluttering wings fills the air.

Remy sleeps on, blissfully unaware that he is completely and utterly the absolute centre of attention in the middle of a gathering circle of vampires.

_The hunt is over. _

_The prey is theirs. _

[END of PART 3!]

_Next issue: we finally get to meet the Pure Breed in person. Not before time, I hear you cry! Lots of fun and futile fighting follows! Tune in (if you're still awake) to Destiny's Pawn Part 4._

**(c) S Watkins, 2001**

   [1]: mailto:sarah.watkins@onyx.net



End file.
